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Apr. 14th, 2008

It was hard to get, and that was the whole lure of the thing. Well, that and the literal lure on the end of her fishing line. She squinted into the sun, swung the line back, and cast out across the still water. The trees rustled faintly in the breeze above her. She could feel the current tugging at her waders. She smiled, not caring that it made the squint lines around her eyes deepen. It was a good day, and if she was honest, she had a good life. It might be a small town, but that was hwy she'd moved out here, after all. That was when she saw the corpse bobbing around the mangrove roots downstream of her. Her first thought was, thank goodness that's downstream. Then she really processed what she saw, and she foraged across the stream--

Inspiration: Fishing line, and playing hard to get.
Story Potential: Low. Or high, depending on how you look at it--so far it isn't doing anything new and interesting, but it's like a comfortable pair of shoes.
Notes: Mmm, tasty. A nice "big town murder in a small town" story.

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penthius

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